


The Savior

by messedupstargazer



Series: Rae's Whumptober 2019 [10]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, And Len the owner, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bisexual Barry Allen, Don't copy to another site, Gay Leonard Snart, Gen, I also have Axel a prosthetic, I made the Rogues bar attendants, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Leonard Snart Is A Secret Softie, Leonard Snart Own Saints and Sinners, Leonard Snart to the Rescue, M/M, No noncon, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Rogues mentioned, Protective Leonard Snart, Referenced Pride, because i could, it does not happen, mostly gen but kinda sappy romantic, sort of preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 05:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21131582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messedupstargazer/pseuds/messedupstargazer
Summary: Whumptober Prompt #21- Laced DrinkI think someone drugged my drink





	The Savior

_“I think someone drugged my drink.”_

Len had simply been using the men’s room when a lanky, gorgeous man stumbled in, drunk off his ass. He could barely hold himself straight up, and his face was relaxed and confused at the same time. Len had frowned, this was the employee bathroom and what was the point of having a separate bathroom if patrons forced themselves into this one? He didn’t have to scrub every bodily fluid off the floor every night in this bathroom.

“This is for employees only, kid.” Len had mumbled, pointing in the direction of the customer bathroom. “You’re looking for the one near the bar.”

The kid hadn’t responded to him, simply continuing to stare in confusion. He was so young, he definitely got carded coming in here, and maybe Len should make sure that Sam was properly checking IDs tonight.

“How much you have to drink tonight?” Len asked.

“One.” The kid finally answered slowly, his voice heavy and slurred.

“One what?” Len’s eyes raked the kid over. His fluffy brown hair was spiked up, tips spray painted pink, lavender, and blue, his pupils so dilated he could barely see the green, his runner’s physique on display under the nerdy tank top and short shorts. He must’ve come from Pride, which was still going strong down the street, and gotten much more than a drink beforehand. He never minded, so long as they were sober enough to properly pay the tab at the end of the night.

“One.” The kid repeated, finally meeting Len’s eyes. He looked like a lost puppy.

He needed to find this kid’s friends and get them to call the kid a taxi or something so he could sleep this off.

“Didn’t want to.” The kid murmured unprompted, almost sounding hurt through the slur.

Len frowned. This wasn’t normal behavior for inebriated people, he owned a bar, he knew highs. This wasn’t any drug Len was familiar with.

“Who did you come here with?” Len asked.

“Not Tony.” Was all the kid managed to say until he said the dreaded words that always sent a chill down Len’s spine. “I think someone drugged my drink.”

It was the first truly coherent sentence the kid had been able to say. So he knew his attacker, that was a good sign. That gave Len a name to throw out.

“What’s your name?” Len said, trying to slowly approach as to not scare the kid.

“Barry.” The kid said. “Name’s Barry.”

The bathroom door opened, and a wall of muscle walked in. The kid whimpered.

“Hey, Barry.” The muscle said. “We were getting worried about him. Thanks for finding him. Our car’s outside, I’ll drive him home.”

Something about his words felt off to Len.

“You must be Tony, then.” Len said easily, subtly putting himself between the kid and the muscle. “Barry here was just telling me about you. College friend?”

“Yeah I’m Tony.” The wall smiled, as if Len was the stupidest man in the world. “We were friends in high school, reconnected for Pride.”

And that was the final nail in the coffin. He knew high school, and how this kid must’ve looked in high school. No way the Neanderthal would be friends with the obvious nerd behind him.

“So what did he take?” Len asked, stopping Tony from reaching behind him to get at Barry. “I mean, he looks a little bad, maybe I should call an ambulance.”

“He’s fine.” Tony brushed off. “He just drank a little too much. I can get him home.”

Tony made a brutal grab for Barry’s arm, but Len caught his hand, twisting it behind the man. He swept his foot under Tony’s legs and got in a good punch to the face before Tony elbowed him in the gut, winding him. Tony reached once again for Barry, yanking the kid by his shirt, ripping the HI BI shirt off Barry’s chest, sending the uncoordinated kid to the floor.

In one swift motion, Len drew his gun from his waistband, pointed it at Tony’s head and clicked off the safety. If Tony had been so callous with a shirt, he didn’t want to think what else he would be callous with after he got what he wanted.

“Whoa, man, I don’t want any trouble.” Tony immediately pulled his hand back to put both up, his face pale and trembling.

“Shoulda thought of that before you drugged his drink.” Len snapped. “I hate people like you. Get out of my bar, and never return. And if you drug another drink, I’ll cut your dick off. Now get out of here.”

“Sure, man, whatever you say.” Tony said, inching his way towards the door.

“By the way, ‘Tony’’-” Len drawled out, in the voice that Mick liked to call Captain Cold, following Tony with his gun. “If you ever attempt to contact Barry again, so much as look in his direction, I won’t hesitate, bitch.”

Tony nodded, fear evident on his face and he took off running.

Len put the safety back on his gun, tucking back in it’s concealed holster. He always was packing in case anyone was either dumb enough to try and rob him, or, more likely, the mob families that wanted to run Central City tried to extort him. Last time, he had sent the Santini’s packing a little extra lead after they threatened to burn down his store. It was infuriating enough that the bar he owned legally was threatened, but to imply that Mick would get blamed for it (Mick’s arsonistic tendencies were well-known unfortunately) was something he could not abide.

A low moan turned his attention downward. Barry was still on the floor, struggling to stand. He would get his arms in place and two seconds later would slip or collapse under the weight. Through the ripped shirt he saw an unusual scar, there was a mass of scar tissue in between his collarbone and shoulder, and scars around it that seemed to run like rivers down his body. What little left of Len’s heart bled for the kid.

“I’m calling an ambulance.” He said, pulling out his phone.

“No hospitals!” Barry shouted, slapping a hand wildly around at Len’s phone. He didn’t come close but it made Len hesitate. “No hospitals. Please. They’ll find out. They can’t, please, _they can’t_.”

Aw, shit. Kid came from a homophobic house. No way was he going to send someone into that kind of pain willingly. He knew what happened if a gay kid, whether they were adult or not, came home to those who were not willing to accept them.

“Okay, no hospitals.” Len soothed, gently brushing down the shaved strands of Barry’s undercut. Barry leaned into the motion. “But you can’t stay on the bathroom floor forever. I got a reputation to uphold. Let’s get you a cab.”

“Cab?” Barry’s voice was so young, so scared that it seemed almost inhuman.

That broke what little resolve Len had to the kid’s pretty face. Len sighed and grabbed Barry under his back and knees, lifting him bridal style into his arms. He adjusted slightly, he wasn’t as young as he was when he first bought this bar, hit the button to open the door he installed to help with Axel’s prosthetic, then started to walk out the door. Barry tucked himself into the nape of Len’s neck, like a child in their father’s arms. Which made sense, Len noted, as the kid seemed half his age. He made it to the stairs leading up to his apartment when he heard Hartley calling him.

“Hey, boss, we’re almost out of- shit who’s that?” Hartley asked, coming up to them.

“Kid got roofied.” Len said simply. “Can’t go to the hospital, homophobic next of kin will find out he’s obviously bi. So I’m giving him a space for tonight so he can sleep it off.”

Hartley was his best bartender, had a photographic memory, and a killer taste in mixing new drinks. And since Hartley was also as gay as a diamond-studded rainbow, who had been kicked out for that same reason, he understood.

“Of course, boss. When you’re done making sure he won’t die, we’ll need more Fireball. We’re almost out.”

Len nodded, made a mental note to grab the next case, and headed up the stairs. He passed Mick watching hockey in the living room.

Mick didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to they’d known each other so long they were practically married, just raised an eyebrow and slightly tilted his beer.

Len repeated the information he’d given Hartley, and Mick, who Len had often gone to running to from his father, didn’t press why Len hadn’t just found his friends and forced one of them to take Barry to a safe place for the night like he would’ve done to any other drunk partier.

“When commercial comes on, get Hart a case of Fireball, we’re almost out.” Len said.

Mick nodded, set his beer down, and left, leaving Len and Barry alone in their apartment.

So Len simply made his way to the seldom used guest room, almost thankful that Lisa was still away at college. Not only was his sister’s room available, she wasn’t here to gloat to him about how a pretty face made him soft. He gently pushed open the door with his hip, then set Barry down on the bed. He gently removed Barry’s shoes and pulled the covers to his shoulders, as he had done for Lisa so many times.

“There’s a trash can right here in case you feel sick.” Len said, gesturing to Barry where he was leaving Lisa’s small trash can. “I’ll check up on you in a few hours.”

Quicker than a flash, a hand grabbed Len’s wrist. “Stay. Please. ‘M scared.”

Now, not only was he glad Lisa was away at college but that he had already sent Mick for the Fireball, because there was no way he was leaving that small voice latching onto the barest inking of hope. He didn’t know the kid, the kid didn’t know him, but in that moment, they were connected. Flashbacks peppered his vision, of Lewis, a belt, a Bible, praying on his knees, trying so hard to be straight, unable to keep his own heart in check. After everything this kid had been through, the scars, the fear, the almost assault, Len couldn’t leave. Not when that was all he had wanted when he was younger. It seemed Barry had gotten the savior all of their people wanted, and Len wasn’t going to screw that up.

“I won’t leave you.” Len whispered the words he wished someone had whispered to him so many years ago and the hand tightened slightly. Len pulled his wrist loose to replace it with his hand and sat down beside the bed. From where he was, he could easily keep an eye on Barry while still holding his hand but rested his back against the wall. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, he knew his knees would ache tomorrow and his back would never forgive him.

“Thank you.”

The last words that passed Barry’s lips before he succumbed to sleep made it all worth it, though.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my attempt at Whumptober, I'll be posting as much as I can, under this series. Not all will be Flash but each story will be Whumptober. Some will.
> 
> If you liked it, let me know! Come find me at bloodyfeverdreams on tumblr! Leave a comment or come say hi! Whatever you're comfortable with!


End file.
